I worry about my parents.
I worry about their health. I worry about their wellbeing. I worry that they are warm and well fed and healthy.  
At this age, I could claim that I worry about them more than they worry about me, but my mom is quite a worrier. When the good Lord passed out worry, she stood in line twice.
My newest item to worry about is their ability to pay their bills.
They live in the northeast and to say that heating costs are rising more rapidly than income is an understatement. Their latest delivery of heating oil to heat their home and their water came to $499.
My mom told me last week that the check I sent for their anniversary came just in time and went straight to the oil company.
They learned last week also that they will have to replace their 50-year-old furnace at a cost of $5,200.
My parents will never have to go cold or hungry.
I will always see to it that they are taken care of monetarily, even though I can’t be there to see them every day.
When my mom needed new hearing aids last year in order to be able to hear, I sent the money.
My mom said she didn’t know how much longer she was going to be around, and although we pray it is a long time, as my husband said, even if it improves her quality of life for just one day, it is worth it.
I think I was more in love with him at that moment than I have ever been.
My two sisters that live nearby look in on them every day and make sure they are well fed and healthy. They let me know if there is anything to be concerned about with their health.
They bring them meals, invite them to their houses to eat, and make sure they always have the groceries they need in bad weather, if they are unable to go out.
They make their doctor’s appointments and make sure they take their medication.
My dad and I had the conversation a while back that if he were to pass first, my mom could not live on the remaining income. I assured him that would never be a problem and I would take care of it.
My dad served in both World War II and the Korean War. He worked hard his whole life. He should not have worries such as this.
My mom and dad met and married late in life. My mom was in her late 30’s when she gave birth to three daughters in three consecutive years.
They made the decision then that my dad would work and my mom would be a stay at home mom.
My mom was an exceptional mom. She was PTO president, Girl Scout leader, and attended every field trip and school event we ever had.
My dad never made an extraordinary amount of money as a draftsman, but he worked hard and we never wanted for anything. He is the kindest, most generous man that I have ever known.
We wore clothes my mom made, and she is an incredible seamstress.
We took educational vacations in a van and camped out everywhere we went. I never set foot in a hotel room until I was 17 years old on a school trip.
We visited every battlefield, former president’s house, and historic city from Maine to Virginia.
The trips were meticulously planned and always fun.
We didn’t have what others had but we never felt it or cared.
Now in their 80’s, they have limited income and watch closely where every dime goes.
My sisters and I will always see that they are taken care of, but I wonder what other elderly people do who don’t have such a support system.
Who makes sure they are fed and warm? As food costs continue to rise, how will they survive?
I guess I inherited my mom’s worry gene after all.